diness to escape in case of danger.

In the meantime the prisoner was screaming as if he were possessed;
but the two Italian police that Napoleon had brought with him could
not understand a word.

The emperor himself had forgotten that he had called for orange water
and was now engrossed in a military map.

"Qu' a-t-il?" he seemed to be asking the lady next to him.

Minos had begun again and was once more repeating his assurance that
"feelings of pleasure thrill----"

Walter noted that the grown-up members of the Holsma party did not
pay the slightest attention to the play.

"If she doesn't come soon, I'm going," Mevrouw Holsma repeated.

"Perhaps she's sitting further back in the emperor's box, where we
can't see her."

"I've heard that in Paris she never stays fifteen minutes in the same
place. Maybe we shall find her somewhere else," remarked another.

"I am not going to wait but five minutes longer. My little Erich is
worth more to me than a thousand cousins----"

"Of the king," added Holsma.

Walter had thought that they meant Femke. What, then, could be so
interesting about the princess? The boxes were full of them.

At the close of the third act Mevrouw Holsma left with Uncle Sybrand,
who was to return with Femke. "If she will come," he said. "For she
cares nothing for such a fuss."

Walter knew better. Uncle Sybrand ought to have seen her in the
"Juniper Berry." But a knight tells no tales.

Old Minos is insanely in love with Ismene, who is so beautiful
and virtuous. Scylla is insanely in love with Minos, who is old and
dignified. Ismene is in love with Focus, who is a hero; and, possibly,
Focus loves Ismene, though he does not treat her quite gallantly. He
says to her:

"Princess, thy reasons spare: to me they're odious!"

The tumult on Mount Olympus began afresh. Had the rebellious
confectioner returned? All eyes were directed toward the gallery. A
policeman in uniform was seen remonstrating in vain with some men
on the front seat. In order to make them understand his French, or
Italian, he was pulling at their arms. They were to understand that
he did not want to arrest them, or kill them, but merely wanted them
to give up their seats.

"Princess, thy reasons spare: to me they're odious!"

"Qu' y a-t-il encore?" asked the emperor again; and, when one of the
chamberlains answered his question, he laughed heartily. Heads were
together everywhere. Something interesting was